Love Feud
by thesoutherncross100
Summary: His secret affair with his ex-girlfriend turned mistress had been going so well. But no secret affair goes unnoticed forever and it doesn't take long for Cera to figure out that her husband wasn't as loyal as he vowed to be...
1. Synopsis

His secret affair with his ex-girlfriend turned mistress had been going so well. But no secret affair goes unnoticed forever and it doesn't take long for Cera to figure out that her husband wasn't as loyal as he vowed to be. Her actions as a result of her anger has forced James, the one and only Don of the Elysian Mafia and Littlefoot's friend, to turn his men on her with such ferocity that not even Charles Burnett could've imagined. And just when things seem to go smoothly, a betrayal from someone high-up in the Mafia Hierarchy threatens to unseat the seat of power James fought so hard to gain.

Amidst all this, 16-year old Armando Burnett finds himself befriending a certain lady whom he might just fall in love with


	2. Prologue

Prologue

As the evening sky began to turn orange, a black one-off Mercedes Benz G-Wagen 6x6 limousine exited the compound of the Federal Psychiatric Hospital for War Veterans. In the rear cabin of the rather large off-road capable limousine were Littlefoot and Ali, the latter having been picked up after her week-long stay at the hospital. The doctors have cleared her but advised that Littlefoot keep her company since he was the only one who could keep her under control.

It was an advice the current Chairman of Great Valley Airlines was willing to adhere to, especially since he needed a new secretary to help him with paperwork. That and the fact that he could have her as a mistress to keep their passion for one another growing. Along the scenic roads the limousine went and the two Apatosauruses enjoyed the view out the window. On their left were the hills of the South of France while on their right were the beautiful sea and orange sky.

What a wonderful time to be going on a cruise.

"Beautiful, ain't it?" Littlefoot asked as he switched on the Bang & Olufsen stereo system in his limo and began playing a few selected tracks.

"Yeah." Ali answers. "More beautiful than the time we stood on top of an aircraft carrier."

"Jeez, you still remember?"

"I will always remember those happy moments, my dear Littlefoot. You have been and always shall be the only love of my life."

"And Rhett?"

"I was never interested in him. He did what he did thinking he would win me over."

"Well we know how that turned out."

"Yup."

Just then, a familiar song from the 80s began playing. It was a classic love song James had introduced to Littlefoot, titled "Waiting For A Girl Like You" and sung by "Foreigner", the band famous for their hit "I Want To Know What Love Is".

"You feel it in the air yet?" Littlefoot asks.

"I was going to ask you that question." Ali smiles.

Despite what had happened before, the two Apatosauruses set aside their differences and nuzzled one another. Even though the chances of them marrying were slim, Ali still held on to that little glimmer of hope. Sure, she wasn't going to pull the old moves anymore but her passion for Littlefoot remained. And now with him opening up to her, there was a chance for her to win him back.

She just had to find the right time to seize the opportunity.


	3. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 _A Few Days Earlier…_

Several guards fell where they stood as Tommy Brasi let loose with a burst of automatic fire from his M16A1. Once the guards had fallen, his Soldatos surged forward from behind him, bursting into the main house of the residence which belonged to the late Don Giovanni. Immediately upon the announcement of Roberto Giovanni's death, the most loyal of his men splintered off from the Elysian Mafia while everyone else under him flocked to pledge their allegiance to the Capo Di Tutti Capi.

Though his dream was to see the Commission restored with two big-shots at the top, Don Giovanni's betrayal forced him to put forth his late father's plans for total control instead. And now with the Don in charge of Italy dead, all he had to do was eliminate the splinter organization headed by an ex-Giovanni goon.

On the east side of the residence, another team of Soldatos led by Luca Clemenza gunned down guards stationed at the guesthouse and burst inside where they find a hatch underneath the master bed which led to an escape tunnel. Clearly whoever led the splinter organization had plans to pull back to the guesthouse after the main house was overrun and escape undetected while his men held off the Soldatos till they were either incapacitated or killed.

"Alright, I want the two of you to pick up the Beretta machine pistols those two goons have in their hands and stand guard outside." Luca said to two of his Soldatos. "Let's see if we can't fool the bastard into coming in."

"It's a bold move, sir." One of them remarked. "Why can't we just let Tommy do the killing?"

"Because Tommy and I are competing to see who gets to kill him."

Back inside the main house, Tommy Brasi too was making preparations to ensure he would be the one to make the kill. He orders his men to secure all points of entry while he cleared the second floor "with the extras". They went from room to room, sweeping every corner to make sure nobody was hiding inside a cupboard or underneath a bed. Ten minutes later, the men were upon the double doors of the office where the late Don Giovanni conducted his business.

"Alright, we breach on three." He said to his men. "One… Two… Thr-"

 _WHAAAAAAAAM_

A massive explosion blows the doors off their hinges before Tommy could even complete his sentence. What followed was a hail of automatic gunfire as the Consigliere of the splinter organization attempted to shoot his way out of danger Scarface style. Some of Tommy's men attempted to fire back with their submachine guns but they were all mowed down by the Consigliere's M16A1 as they popped out from cover.

"Say hello to my little friend!" He shouted.

 _BRATATATATATAT_

"You forgot to say "Please", Friendo." Tommy remarked.

The Consigliere fell where he stood with blood pouring out of the multiple entry wounds on his body. Tommy and his surviving men charged into the office, believing they would find the head of the splinter organization waiting for them. What they were greeted with instead was a note on the exquisitely designed table.

" _So you've found the office and defeated my, quite frankly, deranged Consigliere. Good work if I do say so myself. But if anything, I have eluded you cocks and am on my way to a speedboat as we speak._

 _Ciao Ciao!_

 _Not Sincerely,  
Alberto Pisciotta"_

Well, so much for thinking that he would win the competition. Tommy kicked the table in frustration when he realized his target had gotten away long before he reached the office. Unbeknownst to him however, Alberto too had been overconfident in his abilities when he wrote that little note. Just as Luca had planned, the head of the splinter organization made a break for the guesthouse just as the main house was about to be overrun, hoping to escape through the secret exit.

And just like Luca had hoped, he failed to notice the different faces guarding the entrance before heading inside. The minute he did, Luca and his men converged on him along with the two guards who came in and locked the door behind them.

"I honestly didn't think you'd fall for my trap." Luca smiled coldly. "Not that I'm complaining or anything."

"You were always the smarter of the two, Luca." Alberto answered. "Perhaps I could cut a deal with you."

"I ain't Dean Barzini, pal."

 _BANG BANG_

 _BANG_

* * *

From the window of his room, 16-year old Armando Burnett admires the morning view with a chilled bottle of coke by his side. The days of war were far behind him, his father having seized power 8 years earlier. From a playful young boy with a passion for adventure, Armando grew to become an outgoing teenager who loved to go out whenever he could and meet new friends. Much like his father, he also acquired a taste for fancy firearms and expensive cars, though he preferred more outrageous styling as opposed to his father, who preferred timeless designs.

Having just gotten his driver's license recently, Armando couldn't help but take advantage of his father's huge vehicular collection which apparently included a Ripsaw tank complete with M153 automated weapon turret and GAU-21 .50 caliber machine gun. Obviously he wasn't really interested in the tank but hey, it was good to know that he had access to such a vehicle in case someone decides to assault the compound.

"Dad! Where are the keys to the Countach?" He shouted from the garage.

"Are you serious, Armando?" James said as he popped up from behind the open engine bay of a 1986 model-year white Ferrari Testarossa he was working on. "You've just passed your test and the first thing you want to drive is my Countach? Hell no!"

"Come on, dad! You had a Gallardo as your first car."

"That's my second car, son. My first car was a BMW 320i without the M-Sport package or performance upgrades."

"But I thought you said-"

"I never talked about the Beemer because I sold it after becoming real familiar with tackling the streets."

"And you bought a Gallardo after that."

"Precisely."

"Okay then, I'll drive something else."

"Good."

The next thing James knew, one of the cars in the garage fired up, more specifically the Lamborghini Aventador SV he recently bought himself. James' eyes widened in shock when he saw his son raise the shutters and roll out of the garage while shooting him a cheeky smile. Armando expected his father to come rushing towards him the minute he saw the car moving and immediately guns the gas once the back end of the car had left the garage, causing the wheels to spin round momentarily due to the insane amount of torque generated.

Moments later, he found himself thundering down the winding roads leading from his father's residence to Palermo at a ridiculously high speed. Taking it up a notch, he switches the car from normal mode to Corsa and turns the already raging bull into some sort of demon "straight outta hell". With each tap of the flappy-paddle shifters, the car jolted as the gears changed. On downshifts, the optional sports-exhaust spit flames like a fire-breathing dragon, showing off the machine's true ferocity.

Just like James in his younger days, Armando kicked the ass-end of the car out whenever he went into a corner and performed powerslides that generated enough smoke to cloud the road and block the vision of anyone following close behind. While his father blared Kenny Loggin's "Danger Zone" on the stereo of the old Gallardo, Armando had Paul Engemann's "Push It To The Limit" on full blast as he went up and down the winding roads over and over again.

Then, someone appeared in his rear view mirror.

"Oh hi, dad…" The teenager smiled as he saw the Ferrari 488 GTB. "Let's race."

Right behind the Aventador SV, James didn't exactly share his son's enthusiasm. He was worried, not just about his son's safety but also the cost of repairs should Armando decide to kiss the side of a mountain or worse, drive off the cliff entirely. Repeatedly he tried to pull up next to the Lamborghini but each time he thought he could, his son simply guns the gas and speeds off like some sort of maniac, the engine roaring to life each time he did.

"Slow down, dammit!" The Capo Di Tutti Capi shouted.

Both father and son continued to thunder up the mountain, eventually reaching the top after a series of turns. At this point, Armando performs a handbrake U-turn and passes his father before he could even react. He sighed and emulated the move, wondering when this unintentional race would come to an end. At least his son wasn't tearing up the roads in the Countach, right?

As they came to a corner on the way down the hill, Armando once again pulls a powerslide and does his thing. James attempted to follow the move and switches off traction control before pulling the slide. Unfortunately for him, he made the turn a little too late and ends up losing control of the car as it spun round and round before smashing right into the railing. His son, having witnessed the crash, whips the Lamborghini around and hurriedly rushed over to him.

He was relieved when he saw James emerge from the car relatively unscathed.

"And you said I couldn't drive." The teenager remarked as he emerged from his car.

"You were the one who made me crash, son." He answers. "You're grounded for-"

"Hold on there! Me? Responsible for the crash? I never asked you to emulate what I did, dad. You could've turned the corner like a normal human being but you decided to follow my style instead." Armando glares at his father's car and noticed that the Manettino switch was set to "traction control off". "You really are a moron, aren't you?"

"What?"

"What sort of sane person switches traction control off? I know I don't."

"I did it in the Gallardo when I was young."

"Haven't you heard what Jeremy Clarkson had to say about the Gallardo? It's a softie supercar that anyone can drive comfortably."

"I-"

"Don't argue with me, dad. It's your fault that the car crashed, not mine. If you hadn't switched the traction control off, that thing might've been intact." The teenager hops back into his Lamborghini. "Let's go."

"I think I'll take a cab after calling the insurance company. Your driving is way too insane for my taste."

"Okay."

James watched as his son drove off in the Lamborghini, sighing when he did. Looks like somebody just found a new toy to play with…


	4. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The sun was hung high on clear skies as the Burgess Silver Fast cruised down the French Coast at a steady pace. On board the billion-dollar yacht were three individuals; James, Littlefoot, and Ali, all three looking forward to a relaxing weekend. James, who was the owner of the yacht, could be seen pouring himself a glass of champagne from the lounge area while his pals sat in the back of the sun-deck discussing business related matters. Ali had been employed as Littlefoot's secretary for some time now and it wasn't all that uncommon for the two to be discussing work even while on break.

"So the letter's done?" Littlefoot asked.

"Yup." She answers. "That and the monthly report."

"Good good…"

"What about your side? How did the purchase of Red Guards Armories go?"

"We're a in a little disagreement over the price. I wanted 2.3mil but he's looking at 3mil."

"Why not 2.5?"

"I was just about to suggest that when he had to depart for an emergency. He said he would call back."

"And?"

"I haven't heard from him since."

"Now isn't that unfortunate?"

"Or his company."

"Looks like somebody's trying to avoid you."

"Even after using a random stranger's phone."

"Okay, now that's weird."

It was at this moment that their human pal came up to the sundeck with a half-full glass of champagne in his hand. He seemed a lot more casual compared to his usual self, wearing a white polo-shirt, Rayban Aviators, and cap bearing the Tag Heuer logo instead of the old Pastel or Don outfits. The only thing that remained unchanged was the IWC Schaffhausen Ingenieur on his left wrist, which he wore just about everywhere he went.

What caught Littlefoot's eyes however was not how casual his friend acted but the fact that he had a file-holder in his left hand. It bore the logo of Red Guards Armories, the company Littlefoot was trying to purchase. James placed the tannish file-holder on the coffee table along with his glass of champagne and sat down adjacent to Littlefoot.

"Here's the deal." James said as he sat down. "2.1mil for the purchase. If you're not willing to buy at this price, I'm getting the company for 3mil like he wanted."

"How did you…" Littlefoot mumbled in shock.

"Simple. I just gave him an offer he couldn't refuse."

"What kind of an offer?" Ali asks.

"That I can't tell. I wouldn't want to let me secret out would I, Madamé Ali?"

"It's "miss", not madam." Her cheeks reddened as she turns away. "Though it would be nice if it was."

"Ali-" Littlefoot tried to say.

"Relax! I'm not going to do what I did before. I was just… Expressing my feelings."

"Riiight."

While the three continued their relaxing cruise down the sea, they had no idea that someone was secretly watching them from the coast. Through the lenses of his powerful binoculars, Dominic Ferrero could see the three lounging on the sundeck discussing something. A Soldato within the Elysian Cosa Nostra, he had been secretly employed by Cera to spy on Littlefoot when she became suspicious about her husband, who recently had a habit of staying out for a bit longer than usual.

That and regularly joining James on his yacht for no apparent reason(they were not business partners nor did they do any form of business together).

* * *

 _"_ _The number you have dialed is currently unavailable, please leave a voice message after the beep."_

 _TOOT_

Littlefoot tapped the "end call" button on the JP200 phone with a worried look on his face. Cera hadn't informed him about going out with someone yet despite this, she hadn't answered his repeated calls home. It was the first time she had ever done such a thing and the Apatosaurus felt worried for his friend. He ran out of the cabin located below the lounge deck and climbed up to the sundeck when he found his human friend chatting with his(Littlefoot's)mistress with a glass of champagne in his hand.

"James, can we turn back to Monte Carlo right now?" Littlefoot asked. "Cera's not answering the phone."

"Relax, Littlefoot! She probably went out with her friends." His friend answers before taking a sip of champagne. "That or she's in the bath."

"I've called a few times already and she's not picking up."

"Then she's probably out with her friends."

"You don't understand, James. Cera would never go out without calling me. She knows your number and she knows I'm on board. I told her to call you if we were on your boat and she wanted to head out."

"She probably took a nap then." James pats his friend on the back. "Just call her in a few hours or so."

"What's the call about anyways?" Ali asks.

"I wanted to tell her that I might be hitting the bar with James later." Littlefoot answers.

"Look at you, Littlefoot." His human friend smiled. "You've grown, my friend."

"All thanks to you."

"Heh… Don't worry about the call. I'll phone her personal number later. Y'know? To make the whole thing more convincing."

"Thanks."

"My pleasure, pal."

At this moment, "Danger Zone" by Kenny Loggins suddenly played on James' phone and the Capo Di Tutti Capi walks away as he swiped to answer the call. To his surprise, he heard his son on the other line with great news; he had just been successfully transferred to Ricardo Crockett High School, a place he wanted to study at for quite some time now as it was very close to Monte Carlo and gave him access to the high-life his father used to live when he was based there.

James was honestly surprised that he didn't need to ring up the school's administration, having expected that there would be a few strings that needed pulling. Not like he would complain or anything since this proved his son was more than capable of handling certain things on his own. Still, there was one thing his son needed for his stay in Monaco and that was a car that wasn't overly unsuited for city traffic.

And since Armando was more of a supercar fan than a practical teenager, James knew he had to sacrifice one of his more daily-able prized possessions. So he did…

"You can have the keys to the Murcielago Versace Edition or the McLaren 12C." He said to his son. "Whichever suits you."

"I think I'll take the Lambo." Armando answers. "I've always been a fan of their roars."

"Take that then."

"Alright dad. Thanks!"

James sighed as he placed his Aster Vertu back in the right pocket of his white colored pants. His son was living such a good life, having been brought up by a father and mother in an extremely wealthy family with a personal gold vault just to store everything. He briefly reminisced about his own childhood; about the feud between him and his own father after the McDonald's case; about how he had to basically run his own branch of the Cosa Nostra so he could get out there one day.

Unlike James, Armando's good relationship with his father meant there was little chance of a family war when he replaced his father as the new Capo Di Tutti Capi.

As the vessel reached the furthest point of its course and slowly made the turn back towards Monte Carlo, James once again reached for his phone. He tapped on Cera's name in the "contacts" section and called her, patiently waiting for her voice to come through. And what do you know? She picked up!

"Hey James, how's it going?" She asked.

"Everything's fine here." He answers. "You seem down."

"Nah, I'm just thinking about something."

"Mind telling me what it is? Maybe I can help."

"Nah, it's a minor case really. I think I can handle it on my own."

"Alright."

"Surely you didn't call me just to check on me, right?"

"Oh no. I'm calling because Littlefoot and I will be meeting tonight for a business deal. He intends to buy Red Guards Armories and I'm there to make sure things go smoothly."

"So he's not coming home for dinner then?"

"Hold on, let me ask him." James lowers his phone briefly and turns towards Littlefoot, who was next to Ali at the back of the sundeck. "Littlefoot! You going back for dinner?"

"Nope!" The Apatosaurus shouts, playing along.

"Okay." James places his phone next to his ear. "No he's not, ma'am."

"Alrighty then, I guess I'll head out with a couple of friends later."

"Sure."

Tears flowed from Cera's eyes as she pressed the "end call" button on the JP200 phone on her desk. She turned towards Dominic Ferrero, who had his laptop at the ready, and asked him to plug his laptop to the printer on her husband's desk. It was time she made her intentions clear to her husband, whom she now knew had failed to move on from his ex-girlfriend even after separating from her.


	5. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Darkness has long since fallen by the time the Burgess Silver Fast returned to port after its cruise down the coast. Han, Littlefoot's bodyguard who doubled as his chauffeur, was there to escort his client to his limousine as he disembarked from his friend's vessel. James, who wanted to fly back as soon as possible, had left just a few minutes ago on helicopter while Ali snuck out unseen and took a cab home. Originally she and Littlefoot had planned to take his mistress on a romantic night out but one of his bodyguards stationed at his residence asked that he return home at once.

Just like all previous occasions, the G-Wagen 6x6 limousine which ferried Littlefoot travelled right through the heart of town. And just like before, the Apatosaurus could see the vibrant nightlife from behind the tinted bulletproof window. As the limo came to a halt at a red light, Littlefoot noticed that there was a white Versace Edition Lamborghini Murcielago right next to his vehicle. Being much taller than the Italian bull, he barely made out who was behind the wheel.

"Looks like someone has a new toy." He muttered to himself. "Like father, like son."

 _ROOOOOOOOOOOAR_

The mighty V12 engine of the Lamborghini howled as Armando shot off into the distance like a Formula One driver using the Launch Control on his vehicle.

As Littlefoot's entourage slowly made its way back towards his residence, the Apatosaurus tried once again to phone his wife, to no avail. He tries again… Then again… And again… Yet even after more than ten attempts to call her, Cera still refused to answer. Sure, she had informed James that she would be going out with her friends but Littlefoot knew his wife always planned to be home before nightfall and even the biggest of delays would put her at home by eight, which had long since passed.

The muffled roar of the custom built G-Wagen 6x6 limousine's V12 engine could be heard in the background as Littlefoot finally gave up on his attempt to phone his wife and looked out the window. He thought about all possibilities; about the dreaded call if his wife was indeed kidnapped; how he would need to phone Don Burnett to ask for his help while he was still in the process of flying home.

If only I had my own men at my disposal, the Apatosaurus thought.

Through the winding mountain roads the entourage of vehicles went, passing residence after residence. Finally, it came to a halt outside the one with a white-painted wall and wooden double gates styled like miniature Jurassic Park gates. Two men carrying machine pistols emerged from within the residence and stood guard on either end of the entrance as the convoy made its way inside. Littlefoot's limousine pulled up right next to the door of the main house where one of his bodyguards opened the door for him and escorted him out of his vehicle.

"Any news on Cera, Roman?" Littlefoot asked the bodyguard.

"Unfortunately no, sir." He answers. "We did find an envelope though."

"Where is it?"

"In your personal quarters."

"Has anyone opened it yet?"

"We figured it was best we left it untouched since it was addressed to you specifically."

"Alright, follow me to my quarters. We need to get to the bottom of this quickly."

"Shall I pull a few extras?"

"I doubt I'll need more than one guy."

"Roger that, sir."

Littlefoot and Roman made their way into the main house and walked up the flight of stairs. They both entered Littlefoot's personal office located at the end of the corridor. It wasn't as grand as James' office but it was where the Apatosaurus would conduct more private deals with his own associates, like negotiating to buy out a company or secretly purchase shares of a company or corporation he wished to control. Just like his pal James, Littlefoot too had a wooden desk where he sat behind and a monitor showing him share and stock prices of various organizations.

And just like what his bodyguard had said, there was an envelope on the desk addressed to him. With his permission, the bodyguard opened the envelope and retrieved a letter from within which he placed in front of his client.

 _My Dear Littlefoot,_

 _I know you've probably been trying to contact me for the past few hours. I've heard the phone ring and I've heard your voice messages. It doesn't matter though. Having received numerous such calls in the past, I know you're calling to inform me that something went down and you're going to be out of the home for at least a few extra days to deal with that matter. Don Burnett probably had something to do with your delays. He is a busy man after all, right?_

 _Whatever your reasons, the delay doesn't really bother me. What does bother me is the fact that someone broke news to me that Ali has become your secretary. I'm pissed… Not because Ali is serving under you but because you are cheating on me. How do I know? I have my own sources telling me that she is working as your secretary so you could keep the fact from me; the fact that she is in reality, your mistress. Oh, how I wish my sources were wrong._

 _Why, Littlefoot? Why did you have to go down this route? I thought you vowed to remain loyal to me when we tied the knot? Did you not remember the words you said to me personally? "My Dearest Cera, I say from the bottom of my heart that no other woman will take me away from you." Does that not ring a bell? Did you forget about that passionate night when we made love even though we knew we would never have biological children?_

 _I'm angry, Littlefoot. No, I'm fucking disappointed in you! Did your mother not drill into you from young the importance of remaining loyal to your wife? Wait what? She didn't? It still ain't a reason, y'know? Have you given any thoughts about your father Bron? About how he remained loyal to his wife even after her tragic death, so much so that he did not even remarry?_

 _Oh wait… Wait… I fucking get it now!_

 _Remember that time when we agreed to adopt a pair of younglings and you said no at the last minute? I understand why you did that now! It's not that you weren't ready. You had plans to ditch me in the event that Ali comes back! What a cunning man you are, Littlefoot! A cunning CHEATER! And I thought the Apatosaurus I made friends with when I was young was someone I could trust during adulthood._

 _Fuck off and don't bother coming for me! And don't bother checking the safe either, Johan cracked it open for me so I could make away with that fifteen-mil of yours. Not that it'll matter anyways since you'll end up six-foot under by the time I'm done with you! Fucking disloyal flathead!_

 _Sincerely,  
Your Play-Thing Cera_

 _P.S. I hope you have your lawyers ready because I'm about ready to file this damned divorce paper._

Just as Littlefoot finished reading the letter, both he and Roman heard beeping noises coming in from the cupboard. Both of their eyes widened in shock by what they found inside. Roman quickly ushered his client out of his office, the two of them making a run for the main entrance in an attempt to escape what would almost be certain death.

 _WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM_

* * *

The explosion was so great that it basically tore through the walls with its shockwave alone. All of Littlefoot's bodyguards standing outside the main house were knocked to the ground by the blast. Through their clouded vision, they could see the house was no more.

Worse still, Roman and their client whom they were supposed to protect were nowhere to be seen.

Slowly, the Apatosaurus opened his eyes. Though still groggy after being knocked out by the explosion, he knew he was buried under tons of rubble and would need help getting out. By some miracle the huge fish-tank he had in his house had prevented him from being buried alive by creating a temporary air pocket, though the same could not be said for the goldfishes he kept there. Though Littlefoot couldn't move his body, he could still move his head and he looked around in an attempt to locate his bodyguard.

No sign of him.

All of a sudden, Littlefoot heard something beginning to slide. This is it, he thought as he closed his eyes. When he reopened them however, he realized nothing had caved in on top of him. What had actually slid were pieces of debris located in front of the fish tank. And now with with them out of the way, he had a window to the outside world. Through this "viewing port", he could see his men searching frantically around the blast site, most likely searching for him and Roman, as police sirens blared in the distance.

"I'm… Here…" He muttered weakly.

Little by little, the glass began to fog up and Littlefoot could began to feel his lungs burning. He knew he had run out of air and it would only be a matter of time before he suffocated inside his tomb. He sighed, realizing that Cera was about to accomplish what she set out to do; realizing how dumb he'd been to go in without asking his men to clear his office beforehand. The Apatosaurus rubbed the fog away in an attempt to regain his vision of the outside world but every time he exhaled, the glass would fog up once more.

With each passing minute, his lungs burned more and more. His breathing also grew shallower and more rapid as the need for oxygen grew. But just when he thought all was lost, a miracle happened. By a stroke of luck, one of his men had spotted the fish tank sticking out from within the rubble and noticed that it had created an air pocket. Moreover, the glass was fogged up, indicating that there was a good chance someone was trapped behind it.

They began to dig through the mount, throwing away debris and that gravel-like material that was suffocating Littlefoot. Underneath the mess, the Apatosaurus knew help was on the way and he kept on fighting even though his lungs were practically on fire from breathing nothing but Carbon Dioxide. Eventually the men reached their client and dug him free from his tomb.

"Find Roman." He said as he gasped for air.

"Don't worry, Rome is safe." One of his bodyguards said. "He got thrown clear of all this when it went down."

"That's good to know…" Littlefoot glares at the blast site. "Call Don Burnett. I need to talk to him about Johan's betrayal."

"Right away."


	6. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Don Burnett, I have grave news to bring."

"What is it, Stefan?"

"Littlefoot got bombed, literally."

"You must be joking!"

"No sir, his house has been bombed and they are combing the site for him right now."

"Okay… Just keep me updated, alright?"

"Will do."

Bad luck had struck twice for Littlefoot. Coming hot on the heels of the bombing of his residence was news that Intratec Solutions, one of the companies under Great Valley Corporation, which was the company he ran, had just been taken over by Cera. The Triceratops had seized the initiative and exploited a clause in her now ex-husband's corporation which stated that in the event that he is unable to lead the organization, his wife would take over.

Not one to miss an opportunity to use a convenient rule in the book to get back at her husband, Cera took over per the rules and made all the investors release their shares to be bought back by Great Valley Corporation briefly. She then, with the help of Dominic Ferrero(who secretly ran a forging operation behind James' back), made extremely realistic forged documents to facilitate in the "sale" of Intratec Solutions which was based in Germany. Once she had full control of the company, she called back all the investors and relisted the shares to them at a lowered price.

It was an unprecedented move but nothing was going to stop the Triceratops from destroying her husband's organization. Causing a company to splinter off seemed like a good way to start so she went for it.

With the two events hitting him simultaneously, Littlefoot found himself unable to figure out a solution. He had been completely overwhelmed and if he was to sit around any longer, there was a good chance that Cera would strike again, only this time with more ferocity. There was only one person he knew who could deal with such a problem; an old pal who at present was semi-retired as he spent his days relaxing in Sicily; an old pal he hoped he would never have to unleash on the streets of Elysium again.

"Roman, tell the men to be ready in five." Littlefoot said. "We're heading down to Sicily."

"By plane or by boat?" He asks.

"Obviously by plane! We need to get down there ASAP."

"Right away, sir."

* * *

Mercenaries packing M4A1 Carbines stood guard on either side of the entrance as the convoy ferrying Littlefoot entered James' residence in Sicily. The Capo Di Tutti Capi had kindly flown his pal to Sicily on his AS-2 Supersonic Business Jet so he could keep watch on the Apatosaurus as his Consigliere and underbosses kept him updated by the hour about findings in the carnage. In the meantime, detectives and bomb experts from the Gendarmerie combed the blast sight for whatever information they could gather about the culprit.

One thing was for sure; whoever planted the bomb had inside knowledge and was aided by insiders.

Through the bits and pieces, one of the detectives finds a badly burnt note signed by Littlefoot's wife Cera. Despite the words being barely visible, he managed to read the final passage which contained two very important details. The first was the fact that Cera was aided by Johan, one of Littlefoot's bodyguards. The second was the fact that she informed her husband that he would be six foot under by the time he finished reading the letter. In other words, she was stating that he would die after reading what she had written.

If that wasn't enough, the investigators eventually located the safe described in the letter and found that it had been cleared out. All in all, the letter made Cera and Johan the most likely suspects in the bombing and a Federal Arrest Warrant was issued, granting all police departments in the Federation of Elysium the power to arrest either of the two on sight without the need for probable cause. In addition to new orders, millions of wanted posters found their way into every street corner across Elysium from the continent of Elysium itself to the Far East, and even on the other side of the pond on North Cretaceous.

These posters could be seen on newspapers, bulletin posts, bus stations, and wherever posters could be placed. Cera and Johan would have to be extremely good at keeping their heads low if they wanted to remain free. That or have friends in high places to keep them out of trouble. Unbeknownst to anyone however, they DID have the latter and what's more, that powerful friend of theirs would make it very difficult even for James to wage a war against them.

"Look, I know you're not a fan of what I'm about to do." James said, making clear that he was not about to simply talk it out with Cera and Johan. "But getting bombed by those you trust is no small matter."

"What do you intend to do?" His friend asks.

"What else?"

"Oh great…" Littlefoot sighs. "I guess there ain't other options left, eh?"

"With Cera's crusade on you? Most definitely not." The Capo Di Tutti Capi pushes the intercom button on his desk. "I would like to see Johnny Pisciotta at my office immediately!"

"Sorry Don Burnett, but Johnny told me five minutes ago that he had an important meeting to attend to and has left his office." A voice came through in response.

"Just when I needed him… Oh well, just tell him to see me once he gets back." James sighed as he took a sip of champagne. "Don't worry, I'll make sure your problem is dealt with as soon as possible. In the meantime, I'll have you settle down in the guesthouse for security reasons. Ali's flying in this evening to join you."

"Alright."

James tapped the shoulder of his personal bodyguard who stood on his right and gave him the order to escort his friend to the guesthouse. When he saw his friend had left his office, the Capo Di Tutti Capi dialed his Sotto Capo's number on his desk phone in an attempt to reach him but all his calls went straight to voicemail. Looks like he was indeed on an important meeting.

A VERY important meeting.

* * *

The sound of a growling V8 engine signaled the arrival of Johnny Pisciotta. As the number two of the Cosa Nostra exited his Shelby GT500, he immediately begins walking towards a small bar located in between a family-run bookstore and a convenience shop. For far too long, Johnny has let his loyalty allow the many opportunities presented to him to simply slip by without being considered by him. Now it was the time for him to act; the time for him to gain power.

Johnny sat down at a table in the back corner of the bar and ordered a bottle of cola for himself. He then asked for an empty glass to be placed on the edge of the table facing the bar itself. A couple of minutes after everything he ordered had arrived, Cera came walking through the door of the bar. She immediately made her way towards the table where Johnny was seated and sat down opposite of him. This Triceratops; she would be the one who would get him right into the position he wanted.

"First of all I'd like to make it clear that, like my ex-husband, I do not wish to have any formal or public ties with whatever the hell you are about to run." Cera clarified moments after sitting down. "We merely formed an alliance because we just so happen to have common enemies."

"I understand." He answered. "And I shall respect that wish of yours."

"Good. Now I'd say we get right down to business."

Cera laid out what she had in mind to Johnny, telling him how she would use the fact that she was now wanted by both the Elysian Federal Police and the Cosa Nostra to lure James' organization into going after her by purposely appearing in public. Once she got the ball rolling, Johnny would hamper his operations by stalling things since the number two was always in charge of the organization's day to day operations. By the time James had figured out what was going on, his organization would have been weakened to the point where even the lowliest of gangs could challenge his hold on power.

That would be the time when Johnny would come in with his goons and perform a hostile takeover. It all seemed like a solid plan… Until Johnny revealed something simpler and easier to manage.

"I could just shoot the bastard when he goes on his Sunday cruise." He suggested. "I know his usual routes and it's not like he travels with bodyguards during these leisure drives around Sicily."

"Wait… It's that… Easy to take him out?" Cera muttered in shock. "Are you sure that he doesn't have a couple of snipers stationed throughout the routes he takes?"

"Don Burnett said his morning cruises were his personal time, not that of his men's. So he decided against having security. Besides, it does allow him more freedom."

"Freedom which meant there is no telling where he's going to end up driving to."

"Not if I have someone racing against him." Johnny shows a picture of a Soldato loyal to him. "Dominic Ferrero. A loyal Soldato of mine and an excellent driver. He'll force Don Burnett to race him by purposely overtaking him when he goes on a cruise."

"In what?"

"A heavily tuned car I own."

"Would it be enough against whatever the hell that bastard might be driving?"

"I'm pretty sure one-thousand brake-horsepower is more than enough."

"Alright, I'll take your word for it. But if the plan turns to shit…"

"We'll go with your plan."

"Excellent. Now I'd say we split before someone sees us."

"You read my mind."

As the two stood up and left the bar separately, they had no idea that Stefan, the Consigliere of the Cosa Nostra, had been sitting mere feet away with his back turned towards them. Obviously he had heard the entire conversation and had secretly recorded it with a recorder placed on his shoulder which was designed to look like an extremely realistic fake lizard.

Being the loyal man that he was, he knew there was one thing he needed to do quickly, lest he want the very organization he worked for to come crashing down.


	7. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It had been a long day for Armando. On regular days he would've returned by the afternoon but today he stayed back to help a couple of teachers prepare for the Monday Assembly. By the time he'd finished doing work, the sun was already setting over the horizon. As he walked back to his bright white Lamborghini Murcielago, Armando noticed that there was another student who was two years his junior taking pictures of the car with her phone.

A female car enthusiast, now that's something you don't get to see often.

With a smile on his face, the son of Elysium's most powerful underworld boss casually walked up to his ride and pressed the unlock button on the key-fob, causing the signal lights to flash twice. The teenaged girl who had been snapping pictures of his car quickly put her smartphone away, hoping that he hadn't spotted her taking pictures of his exotic ride without his permission. Armando chuckled slightly as he opened the driver-side door, having seen what his junior was doing.

"Wanna go for a ride?" He asked. "I can give you a lift home if you want."

"Nah, I don't really want to delay your trip home." She answers. "It has been a long day after all."

"Delay my trip home? Ha! Who says I was going home right away?"

"You still need to go elsewhere, no?"

"I've got the rest of the day to myself. Besides, it gives me an excuse to take an extended cruise in this thing."

"Ahh… But surely your father wouldn't want you driving his ride past dark?"

"Who said… Well it was his ride but he gave it to me because… Because he has an entire collection."

"So this… Wow, what a privileged young man you are."

"You can call it that." Armando smiled. "You wanna take a ride or what?"

"Who wouldn't?"

"Hop in then."

The mighty V12 engine roared to life as Armando pushed the start button. Sat next to him was the teenaged girl twice his junior, who had since lost her ability to wipe off the smile on her face. On the way out of school grounds, she introduced herself as Carolyne Barrington, the daughter of Andrew Barrington, who was the 21st Earl of Dorset. Originally her father had intended to send her to a school in the UK like the rest of her siblings but Carolyne, owing to her love of Monaco, convinced her father that she would learn the importance of independence if he allowed her to study and stay far from home.

It was a valid reason, even if learning to become more independent was not the primary intention of Carolyne. So the Earl granted her wishes and sent her to Ricardo Crockett High School with an allowance of 5000 dollars a month for her to pay her rent and other daily expenses. She had thought about buying a second hand car to eliminate the need to rely on public transport but hadn't really gone through with that plan yet since paying back the loan would be yet another expense added to the list.

"So, how do you like Monaco in general?" Armando asked as they cruised through the streets. "Monte Carlo to be specific."

"I wouldn't mind living here." She answers while looking out the passenger side window, admiring the private luxury yachts currently docked at the peer. "Vibrant nightlife; an abundance of supercars… What more could you ask for?"

"I dunno… A beautiful lady like you in the passenger seat maybe?"

"Oh you…" Carolyne's cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

An awkward minute of silence followed as Armando felt a little regret about saying what he did. He hadn't exactly fallen in love with Carolyne yet and here he was, trying his hand at flirting. And now look at her face, it was as red as a ripe cherry ready to be plucked on harvest-day.

"That was a compliment, Lady Carolyne." The teenaged boy finally broke silence. "I hope you don't take it wrongly."

"Nah, it's not your fault." She answered awkwardly. "I'm just not used to be complimented for my looks."

"And you want to know why?"

"Sure."

"Because most boys are shy when it comes to complimenting a girl, especially if they are smitten by good looks." He taps on the paddle-shifter located on the left of the steering column, causing the engine to roar as it dropped a gear. "I'm just a little more… Vocal, if you will."

"Yup."

"Anyways, you mentioned about buying a car right?"

"Uh-huh."

"Don't bother. I have a little something that isn't used as often as it should. I'll just lend it to you for your stay here."

"Really?"

"Yup. It's a spare car, really."

"Well then, I shall kindly accept your offer, Mr. Burnett."

Next thing she knew, Carolyne found herself thundering down the road as Armando gunned the gas. Since they were now headed towards his house to get the keys to the spare vehicle, it was a great opportunity for him to show off his driving skills and maybe, just maybe, impress a future noblewoman.

* * *

Like some sort of beast unleashed, the V12 engine of the McLaren 12C howled, its sound echoing throughout the mountain roads. Behind the wheel of the British-made supercar, James Burnett tapped the paddle-shifter on the right side of the steering column, upshifting from second to third. Kenny Loggin's "Danger Zone" could be heard on full-blast on the car's Meridian sound system as he pushed the performance vehicle to its limit, thundering way past the speed limit.

Yet despite his best efforts, the Capo Di Tutti Capi still found himself stuck behind the rear of the Nissan Skyline GTR R34 he had been chasing. Though James knew quite a lot about tuned cars literally smoking high performance supercars like his on the streets, he never expected that they could do much more than just smoke supercars at a stoplight. Even with his superior driving skills and knowledge of the roads, James simply could not overtake that pesky GTR in the front, which was shooting flames like a fire-breathing dragon.

"You ain't beating me pal, not on my road." He quips. "That next corner is my corner."

Both cars spat flames from their exhausts as their drivers downshifted within seconds of one another. Using the insane torque sent to the rear wheels, James kicks the back-end of the car out and powerslides through the corner, coming within inches of the GTR as they passed the mid-point of the turn. By the time they exited the corner, both cars were neck and neck and it seemed James would finally be able to accelerate past his foe and zip off into the distance.

But then, without warning, a long flame shot out from the exhaust of the Skyline, its engine howling when it did. Moments later, the tuner once again passed James' supercar. This time it practically left him in the dust, gaining a considerable lead as the crime boss struggled to catch up. But just when it seemed like the tuner was leaving its more expensive rival in the dust, black smoke suddenly rose from underneath the car, followed by the sound of an engine sputtering.

"And that's the inherit disadvantage of tuning." James remarked as he slows down. "Get it right and you're set; get it wrong and you end up with that."

At this point, most supercar owners would've simply shot off into the distance after having their asses handed to them by someone who was practically driving an old car most could afford. But being the good sport that he was, James decides to stop and help his rival.

"Hey man." He said as he wound down the driver-side window. "You need a…"

 _BANG_

 _BANG_

 _BANG_

 _BANG_

 _BANG_

Three of the five shots found their way into James as the crime boss, reeling from the shock of having a weapon pointed at him, gunned the gas in an attempt to get away. Fortunately for him, he had been wearing a vest like he did on all of his previous drives and this habit of his had saved his life, the vest having stopped all of the rounds which struck him. At first it seemed as though the man in the GTR had been a lone wolf who probably had his eyes on James for a long time. But just seconds after he had gotten away, a masked gunman popped out from the side of the road with a Tommy gun in hand.

 _RATATATATATATATATA_

The burst shatters the windscreen of the McLaren but James managed to run the bastard down before he could actually do serious harm to him. He did a full 180 after being machine gunned, stomping down on the gas as he hurriedly made his way home. This was the first time he was attacked in such a way, let alone attacked with such ferocity. Sicily should've been a quiet place to settle down, given the heavy Cosa Nostra presence and the fact that no one would be daring enough to strike the "boss of all bosses" right on the island where it all began.

Peppered with glass and with holes in his polo-shirt, James activated the call app on the touch screen of his battered McLaren 12C and phoned his Consigliere. Nothing could describe the remorse he felt when he described the entire scene to Stefan, having ignored his warning not to go on the drive earlier. He asked for his number three to come into his office in about five minutes with a fresh pair of clothes. He also asked him to beef up security at the compound in case the same attackers tried to hit his home.

This attack had been a wakeup call for James; a reminder that no matter how safe a place was, he still had to be mindful of his enemies, some of whom he now knew had the guts to strike him where he had the most influence. And to make matters worse, James was about to find out that the fight against Cera would prove more costly than what he had anticipated.


	8. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Littlefoot stood next to the glass as he admired the view of the hills and the distant coast. Though he lived in the guesthouse located on the bottom of the mountain path of the compound, the Apatosaurus had come up to the area of the main house so he could have some alone time. He already knew about the attempt on his friend's life and how someone powerful within the Cosa Nostra had betrayed the Capo Di Tutti Capi and allied himself with Cera.

The fight was tough enough without a high ranking mafia man on her side. But now with him on her side, Littlefoot knew James had to make drastic changes to his organization if he was to win this war; changes which could result in the Cosa Nostra becoming going down the path Charles had intended. Littlefoot was torn about whether or not he wanted his friend to continue the fight for him, given the sheer burden placed on his shoulders now that someone has betrayed him.

On one hand, winning the fight would mean a return to peace for everyone but on the other, it meant there was great potential for James to ditch the old way of benevolence altogether for the sake of maintaining his hold on power as well as the continued loyalty of his men towards him.

"Thinking about something?" Ali's voice came from behind him.

"Yeah…" Littlefoot answers. "I dunno… I just don't think James should continue the fight for me. Not when it means turning him into Charles Burnett II."

"Littlefoot, you have to understand that this world is an unfair one. And when you live in an unfair world, the best thing to do is to ensure you don't end up in the shithole like I did."

"Ali…"

"I didn't go there! By "shithole" I meant living on the streets as a vagrant. Honestly speaking I should've searched for a job instead of dragging Giovanni into that mess."

"No, Ali… It's not about that." Littlefoot paused briefly as he sighs. "It's just that… Thinking back, I kinda regret falling in love with Cera."

"We all make mistakes, Littlefoot. You know that yourself; just take me as a good example."

"I know." He smiled.

Without warning, Littlefoot suddenly nuzzled Ali on her left cheek. It wasn't the nuzzle he usually gave her to "show his affection" but one which was genuine and full of passion. Ali was caught off guard; was her ex-boyfriend having a change of heart?

"My dear Ali, you have been through so much." He said. "I do not ask for much. All I want is a second chance. Please!"

"Littlefoot…" She wraps her neck around his. "You have no idea how long I've waited for you to say this. Of course I'll give you a second chance!"

The two Apatosauruses nuzzled each other affectionately as high noon slowly rolled in. Just a short walk away from them in the main house, James darn near flipped his table as he struggled to comprehend the fact that Johnny Pisciotta, his number two, had been the one who had orchestrated the attack. He gulped down an entire glass of champagne and took a deep breath to calm himself down while his Consigliere stood silently in front of him.

"I'll set up a meeting with Johnny since he has no idea that I know." James said. "Once we agree on a date, I want you to send George Francesca down to deal with that bastard."

"Heavy weapons, sir?" Stefan asks.

"Nah, a pistol should be good enough. Tell him to be on standby at all times, the meeting could go down at any moment."

"Yes sir."

"Carry on."

* * *

Mafiosi loyal to James Burnett moved about Armando's heavily guarded compound as they moved Carolyne's belongings from her rented apartment in Monte Carlo to the residence where the crime boss' son lived. Just like his father did during his teenaged years, Armando opened up his residence to a close female friend of his, though his reason for doing so was more of security than of simple friendship. He had been informed of the attempt on his father's life and feared the same shooters might soon come after him or his friend to further damage the Cosa Nostra.

"Put everything in the bedroom adjacent to the master." He said to the men before turning his attention to his friend. "Change of plans; you won't be driving the little Vento."

"So it's back to my old style I guess?" Carolyne questioned.

"Nah, I have something you'll be interested in."

Armando takes his friend to the relatively empty garage of his residence, which once served as James Burnett's personal headquarters and home. Everything inside including his office was still set up as is, though the Capo Di Tutti Capi's personal belongings were long gone. Also the same was the size of the gun locker and garage, though both were now relatively empty after James had moved his entire collection from Monte Carlo to his new residence in Sicily.

Still, the ride Armando wanted his friend to have was still sat in the garage. It wasn't the little unarmored VW Vento sitting right next to the residence-entry door but was actually the old metallic black 750Li sitting in the corner under a grey car cover. Armored and featuring bulletproof tinted windows, the old but menacing car once served as Charles Burnett's limousine, his driver ferrying him in this particular vehicle to and from meetings with his associates back during the 90s.

But now with him six-foot under and his son more willing to drive himself than be driven, the Beemer fell into disuse and was only kept from being taken over by nature because James took the time to take care of every single one of his vehicles inside the garage.

"But why did he leave it here when everything else left?" Carolyne asked after her friend had extolled the vehicle's rich history to her.

"Probably because he never wanted it in the first place." He answers. "Perhaps you could be its new owner."

"Why of course! It's certainly better than driving a little VW around. I could even serve as your chauffeur while I'm at it."

"I guess…"

"And you can like… I dunno… Pay me or something?"

"Kinda like Uber?"

"Yeah."

"Well… Alright, I guess you do need to earn a few bucks while you're out here."

The teenager whips out the keys to the old Beemer and unlocked its doors. Despite having not been touched for so long, the interior was still in pristine condition. And when he put the keys in the ignition and turned it after filling the tank with fuel, the German-made machine roared to life as if it had just left the factory on a full tank. Its V12 hummed a powerful yet silky smooth idle tune, undermining the true power that could be unleashed by stomping on the throttle.

"Go ahead and take it out for a spin." Armando said. "I'll be right behind you."

"In your Lambo?" Carolyne asks.

"Nah, I don't want some moron in a Prius or something to cut right between us because he or she wants a picture of that car. I'll just take the Vento and stay low."

"Alright then, let's hit the road."

The garage shutters opened and out went the two teenagers, one in an old V12 Beemer and the other in a new Volkswagen. As they looked forward to their cruise through Monte Carlo, neither had any idea of what was about to go down in Sicily.

* * *

In a small rented apartment located in the heart of Palermo, George Francesca donned his Kevlar vest before putting on his white pastel outfit, making sure to put on his shoulder holster rig which contained his carry piece after putting on his waistcoat before putting the suit on. He then opened the top drawer of his study and retrieved an old snubnosed Smith & Wesson Model 19 .357 caliber revolver, a family heirloom his father passed on to him before dying of cancer.

Though he had made a vow never to kill a man with this weapon, today would be the day he broke that promise. George knew there was no escaping if he deliberately assassinated someone with a gun registered under his name and thus decided to pull the old revolver, which was made before serial numbers on firearms became necessary, out of storage and put it to use. He loads each of the six chambers with Federal HST hollow-point cartridges and swings the cylinder shut before tucking the weapon into his waistband.

Now fully armed and prepared for the showdown with Johnny Pisciotta and Dominic Ferrero, George retrieves the keys to his Alfa Romeo Giulia Quadrifoglio and began walking towards the door. Before he left, the personal assassin of James shared a passionate moment with his girlfriend, the two of them kissing one another for at least thirty seconds without stopping.

Like a menacing creature, the sharp headlights of the Alfa darted through the night as the meeting grew nearer and nearer. But it didn't seem right tonight, not if George's instincts had anything to say about it. He'd never felt this uneasy on any of his assignments before and the thought of just meeting Johnny sent chills down his spine, yet another feeling he never had in the past. Something was definitely going down tonight; something neither he nor Don Burnett could predict.

"I'm here." George said over the phone. "Where are you?"

"Wasn't Don Burnett supposed to be the one to see me?" The Sotto Capo asked. "Am I being bumped off or something?"

"No one's getting iced tonight, Johnny. Don Burnett just doesn't want to come out, not when someone wants to put him six feet under."

"So he sent you as his err… Representative."

"You can call it that."

"Alright, park the car in front of the cafe and let's meet out back."

"You seem secretive."

"If Don Burnett has a bullet with his name, you can bet your ass that Stefan and I do too. I ain't about to let my guard down, not in a time like this."

"Alright alright, just give me a few minutes, eh?"

"Ciao."

As Johnny placed his smartphone back in his right pants-pocket, he orders Dominic to pull his piece out and hide behind a huge dumpster nearby, reminding him to disengage the safety and have a round in the chamber. He himself also made sure he had shells loaded into his Lupara in case things got ugly, tucking the weapon underneath his suit after snapping the gun shut.

The shuffling of approaching footsteps could only mean one thing and the two men prepared themselves. Johnny turned to face the door where George would emerge from and immediately made eye-contact with his boss' assassin the minute he came out from the cafe. Like cowboys in a duel, the two Mafiosi stared at one another in silence, with neither of them making an attempt to reach for their guns throughout the entirety of the staring fest.

"George…" Johnny finally broke silence. "I've been meaning to tell you something."

"What?" The assassin asks.

"I know why you're here."

"What do you mean?"

"I know why Don Burnett sent you here."

"Is that so?"

Without warning, Johnny reached for his waistband, prompting George to reach for the .357 he'd tucked in his waistband. Being more experienced with guns, George naturally beat his target to the draw and pulled his weapon out first. Unfortunately for him, he didn't even have a chance to put his finger on the trigger when a hollow-point round fired out of a Beretta M1934 pierced the back of his skull.

A man feared by many for his brutal efficiency, Cosa Nostra assassin George Francesca had just been outwitted by the very goons he'd been sent to kill. He fell face-first onto the ground with blood blooming from the entry wound, still gripping the old Smith in his right hand.

Johnny calmly walked up to the corpse of the man sent to kill him and drew his Beretta 92FS, firing two shots into his skull to make sure he stayed dead. Immediately upon shooting his foe, he gave orders for his now personal assassin Dominic Ferrero to retrieve the body armor George wore and mail it back to Don Burnett with an extra surprise within.


	9. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

James, Stefan, Charmaine, Littlefoot, and Ali gathered in the Capo Di Tutti Capi's office as dawn broke, all of them shocked about what had happened. Johnny and Dominic have just proven themselves to be more than just a couple of rebellious thugs with ambitions to take over the Cosa Nostra by all means possible. Everyone gathered in the office sat in silence, all of them thinking about what to do next. Even Charmaine, Littlefoot, and Ali were thinking about the next course of action despite making it their mission to stay as far away from James' criminal doings as they could.

Littlefoot especially was putting more effort than his non-crime dealing friends were, mostly because he knew Cera was also allied with Johnny and Dominic, she having done so to ease her efforts in taking the Apatosaurus down. With George now six feet under, it was only a matter of time before the trio took down someone within the office, given the fact that they could outsmart even the outfit's best assassin.

"Look, I know none of you are going to like this." James sighed as he glares at the Kevlar Vest which came wrapped with three dead fish. "But if we are to make sure those two never bother us again, I need to implement some of my father's old policies."

"Like?" Charmaine asks.

"Oh, you know. The usual stuff."

"I guess those policies are a must in times like this." The Apatosaurus answered with a heavy tone. "But you know where the limit is."

"Yes I do." James answers.

"Anyone we know we can trust?" Ali asks.

"Luca Clemenza and Tommy Brasi are still loyal." Stefan said. "We could ask them to mobilize their men."

"I could also call upon the mercenaries." James adds. "Their loyalty is bought with cash."

"And I…" Littlefoot paused briefly. "I could pull in a replacement for George."

"What?!" Everyone exclaimed simultaneously.

In an instant, the male Apatosaurus found himself being stared at by everyone present in the office. Despite this, he remained calm as he explained who he planned to bring into the picture. The one he chose was a former officer by the name of Turi Andolini. He'd served in the Carabinieri Gruppo di Intervento Speciale for five years before being honorably discharged and is highly trained in firearms handling, close-quarters combat, hand to hand fighting, and takedown techniques.

He'd been recently fired from his job as a restaurant manager after punching a customer who started a brawl at the restaurant. Knowing the man had a family to feed, James knew he could easily give an offer Turi could not refuse. He gave Littlefoot the go ahead to meet up with the former lawman and see if he wanted to serve on the other side of the law. In the meantime he and Stefan would assemble Luca, Tommy, their men, and the mercenaries into some sort of strike-force.

As for Ali and Charmaine, they would split homemaking duties and keep watch on Michael Burnett, Armando's younger brother currently studying at a nearby high school.

* * *

The distinct bom bom bom sound of a helicopter signaled the arrival of Johnny Pisciotta and Dominic Ferrero at Cera's residence atop the Swiss Alps. With a traditional two-floor lodge serving as the main house and a single-floor one serving as the guesthouse, the residence seemed more like a resort than an actual private home. The presence of a swimming pool, spa, separate outdoor dining area, and garden also served to reinforce this feel.

Dressed in their usual outfits, the two Mafiosi made their way over to the main house where they found the Triceratops looking out the window of her study. Despite announcing their arrival through footsteps and brief chatter, the two were seemingly ignored by Cera as she continued to admire the view from the window. It was a beautiful view indeed, with a light layer of fog clouding the world beyond the mountains.

"Signora Cera." Johnny finally said. "We are here."

"I know." The Triceratops turns around. "I was just admiring the view. So, what do you have for me?"

"George Francesca is dead." Dominic reports enthusiastically.

"Just one guy? Are you serious?"

"Relax, Cera!" Johnny exclaimed. "George Francesca was one of James' best assassins. With him dead, the organization has very little in the way of targeting a specific individual or launching decapitation strikes."

"They can still deploy the enforcers against us, no?"

"We can force their hand." Johnny begins.

"By forcing James to meet with us face to face." Dominic finishes.

"And how would you do that?" Cera asks.

"You'll see." Johnny smiles.

* * *

It was a little over eight at night by the time the metallic black Mercedes Benz G-Wagen 6x6 Limousine pulled up to the valet of the rundown condominium complex on the outskirts of Palermo. Dressed in a specially tailored business suit, Littlefoot stepped out of the one-off vehicle and entered the lobby with two of his bodyguards while the rest of his security detail kept watch on his ride. Tonight he would be meeting with that someone his friend so desperately needed; someone with the caliber to replace George Francesca.

Up the elevator the three went, the distinctive "ting" of the elevator signalling their arrival at the eleventh floor of the condominium. All three walked briskly out of the elevator and took a left, walking till they reached the end of the corridor where they found themselves staring at a wooden door with "11-7" inscribed on the sign mounted on it. Roman, who stood on Littlefoot's right, pressed the doorbell three times to buzz the occupants.

"Yes?" A rather tall looking man with blue eyes said as he opened the door. "Ah, Littlefoot. What are you doing here?"

"Mind if I come in for a bit?" The Apatosaurus asked. "There's a little something I think you'll be interested in."

"Sure sure."

The man goes back inside and returns moments later to unlock the door. A wide smile could be seen on his wife's face as the man led Littlefoot and his bodyguards inside his rather small apartment. His kids were playing with an assortment of toys in the living room, their laughter mixed in with the sound of an animated show playing on the small television he and his wife bought years ago. By the looks of it, this man was very clearly in a bad position, financially anyways.

Littlefoot insisted that he and the man discussed whatever they were about to discuss privately and was led into the man's room. His wife made sure to shut the door when she left after serving them a glass of iced water.

"I know about your financial problems, Turi." Littlefoot said. "I'm here to help."

"Help?" He raised his right eyebrow. "What sort of help are we talking about?"

"My good friend James; he has a job offer."

"James as in James Burnett?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you always made it your mission not to involve yourself with the Cosa Nostra?"

"I had to make an exception. My wife, or rather ex-wife, has pushed me into a corner."

"Oh… I see."

"So, are you willing to accept the offer?"

"If it means getting my family out of this shit-hole, yes."

"Alright, now listen carefully."

Littlefoot proceeded to explain to his friend Turi about the events which happened ever since Cera divorced him. He explained how James found himself in his predicament the minute he decided to help him out and that with George Francesca dead, the Cosa Nostra's ability to conduct decapitation strikes had been severely limited. James needed Turi badly, for the difference between victory and defeat lay within the ability to conduct a precision strike at a moment's notice.

That and the fact that he needed a new Head of Security to better protect himself and members of his inner circle from rebellious factions within the organization seeking to overthrow the Capo Di Tutti Capi. Should Turi decide to accept James' offer, the base monthly salary alone would be enough for him to move out of the shitty condominium he lived in and swap it for a spacious bungalow somewhere in the mountains. Couple that with the commissions he would get from killing someone and he would be able to comfortably afford a luxury residence or supercar on a busy month.

However, even with the guaranteed change in life, Turi was a little hesitant to accept the offer. Why? Because if he did, he would be working on the wrong side of the law; the side he had been trying to combat during his time as a member of the Carabinieri. Turi pondered his options briefly, wondering if he should take the job for the sake of his wife and kids or appeal to his sense of justice.

"I'll take your offer." He finally said. "But only if Don Burnett guarantees the safety of my family."

"The wellbeing of you and your family will be taken care of." Littlefoot explained. "That I can guarantee you a hundred percent."

"Okay then, where do we begin."

"You'll find out once I take you to see James. Get dressed, pal."

"Right away."

"I'll wait for you downstairs."

By the time Littlefoot saw Turi at the valet parking area, his friend's attire had changed considerably. Gone were his casual shorts and boxers and in their place was a rather formal looking suit and tie combo complete with dark long-pants and what appears to be a Rolex Submariner on his wrist. He'd also informed his wife about the new offer on the way out of the house, though she didn't seem too thrilled about it.

Perhaps she would change her mind once their life finally goes back on track.


	10. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Armando placed his debit card back in his wallet after using it to pay for a new IWC Ingenieur at the Monaco Ritz, a newly opened mall owned by one of his father's associates. Dressed casually in a white polo shirt and short pants, he joins his female friend at Matteo's Café on the ground floor for a quick bite before they continued their shopping trip. He orders a Risotto upon sitting down, topping it off with top of the line champagne few of his age could afford.

Though James had made sure to put a cap on his son's financial expenses, he had no idea that young Armando had started complementing his debit card allowance by becoming a part time supercar broker for wealthy individuals living in the area, helping them and whichever dealership they dealt with to reach a mutually beneficial deal that both could agree upon and raking in plenty of extra cash through interests and commissions he charged all of his clients.

"Another month, another new watch…" Carolyne shook her head. "Do you like… Conserve your money or anything?"

"I do." He answers with a smile on his face.

"Then how the hell are you affording all this?"

"Because I don't tell anyone how much I'm worth."

"Pretty sure your father is the one giving you the money."

"That's all but a small part of my income, my lady."

Just then, three men dressed in grey suits and red ties entered the café. They certainly didn't seem like friendly blokes, pushing away other patrons as they made their way to an empty table near the entrance to the kitchen. Armando could tell something was off about them. He didn't even need to see the bulges on their shirts to know that they were all packing heat, most likely large-caliber high-capacity automatic pistols with enough rounds to gun down everyone in the restaurant if need be.

The teenager also noticed that at least two of the men were eyeing him in a funny way. He felt an urge to reach for his concealed Glock 19 which he carried in an IWB holster on his waistband. Too obvious, he thought as he decided against it. Instead he reached inside his right pocket as if he was retrieving the money-clip he usually carried with him to give him convenient access to actual paper.

"I have a feeling something will go down if we stay here any longer." Armando said to his female friend. "I'd say we get out of here."

"I was just about to say that." She answers. "You uhh… Carry?"

"We'll see."

The two teenagers summoned one of the waiters over and cancelled their orders before getting up simultaneously. They walked briskly to the entrance of the café and began making their way towards the car-park. Surprise surprise, the three men who entered the café also cancelled their orders as they tailed Armando and Carolyne back to the car-park. All three of them took the stairs after figuring out which floor the two were headed towards in an attempt to save time but by the time they reached that floor, neither of them were to be found.

Armando's Lamborghini Murcielago Versace Edition was still in the same spot it had been left, its number giving away the identity of the owner. Where on Earth could the two have possible gone to?

"Search the floor!" One of the men shouted. "They can't have-"

 _BANG BANG_

 _BANG BANG_

 _BANG BANG_

The gunshots were deafening, so much so that Carolyne's ears were still ringing when the Glock 19 fell silent. All three of the men lay dead, neither of them able to draw their guns before the target they were sent to eliminate turned the tables on them. Armando cautiously approached the bodies, checking each to ensure their hearts have stopped beating completely. He also retrieves one of the men's carry weapons so he could make an educated guess on the organization which ordered the hit.

"Nice try, Cera…" He finally said. "Sending mercenaries disguised as my father's men. If you had armed them with Berettas instead of Glocks, I might not have figured this out."

"Hey uhm, Armando." Carolyne muttered. "I think we should get out of here."

"Agreed."

Both teenagers ran towards the Lamborghini Murcielago, with Carolyne jumping in just as her pal fired up the might V12 engine. He immediately makes a run for the exit, gunning the gas wherever he could to shorten their time in the underground car-park. The minute he placed the ticket into the machine and saw the boom lift, Armando steps on the gas and got the hell out of there with his friend, his car shooting out of the exit at twice the speed of other cars emerging.

 _RATATATATATATATATATATATAT_

The hail of bullets catches both youngsters off guard but Armando managed to keep his cool and speed out of the way. Bullet-holes riddled the glass of his supercar; a pricy repair receipt was definitely in order. Nevertheless, the cost of repairing his car was the least of Armando's concerns. Both he and Carolyne could see a heavily modified Nissan Skyline R34 approaching them from behind.

And it showed no signs of slowing down.

More bursts of automatic gunfire rang, sending panicked pedestrians and drivers running off in separate directions. Armando guns the gas of his Lamborghini and sends the car thundering down the road as he and his friend tried desperately to escape their assassins. They weaved in and out of traffic, at times even crossing over to the opposite lane in an attempt to shake the GTR off their tail. James even tried turning right into the path of an oncoming trash-truck and turning away at the last possible moment to try and get his pursuers to crash.

Despite their best efforts however, the teenagers found themselves unable to shake off their pursuers. Worse still, the longer the chase went, the more carnage it caused to the Principality of Monaco. Being someone who cared equally for those around him as he did himself, Armando whips his Lamborghini around and stomped on the brakes. His pursuers, seeing that their target has stopped, also came to a halt a few feet away from the bullet-riddled Italian bull.

"Say hello to my little friend." Armando said as he grinned.

His pursuers had thought he would step out from the car with his pistol or a sawn off shotgun but this teenager wasn't mucking about when it came to his own safety. Instead of a pistol or shotgun, Armando came out with a drum-equipped Colt Commando and blazed away at his pursuers, putting a wall of lead into their car as they struggled to get out. Two of them, more specifically the ones in the driver and front-passenger seat were gunned down before they could get out.

As for the three in the back, they were quickly shot down after managing a few shots which were way off. Moments after the last man went down, Carolyne also emerged from the damaged Lambo with her own weapon, a Brügger & Thomet MP9 machine pistol she retrieved from the glove-box.

"Everything good?" She asks.

"Yeah." He answers, feeling disappointed with himself. "Hey, I'm sorry our little outing ended up like this. I should've-"

"Relax, I would've left if I minded all of this nonsense." Carolyne smiled rather seductively. "Besides, the fact that there's a good chance we'll run into something like this is exactly why I love hanging around you."

"Now that's something you don't hear every day." Armando whips out his Aster Vertu smartphone and begins scrolling through his contact-list. "Fancy going on the boat after I give my father a call? Y'know? To make up for this mess?"

"Sure."

* * *

Once again, James was caught off guard by just how daring Cera and her allies really were. First it was Johnny and Dominic teaming up to kill George Francesca, now it was Cera's turn to play with fire and boy did she go all out. The daring Triceratops had the guts to go after the Capo Di Tutti Capi's sons by sending in mercenaries under her organization to kill him and his friend, who was a member of British Nobility, knowing that the loyalty of those men could be bought in the blink of an eye and their talents turned against her.

He was also pleasantly surprised that Armando, who usually didn't bother to pay attention whenever he talked about security, had armed himself well enough to fend off more than a couple of attackers. Nevertheless, the fact that his son had just been attacked by the "rebellious trio" was too much for the Capo Di Tutti Capi to ignore. He once again summons everyone who had been in his office before to his presence, including Littlefoot and Ali.

In addition, a new face also joins them; Turi Andolini.

"First off, I'd like to thank you all for arriving on such short notice." James said before making eye contact with Littlefoot. "My son has just been attacked in Monaco by Cera's goons and that's not something I'm about to let slide."

"I've already ordered Luca Clemenza and Tommy Brasi to mobilize their men." Stefan reports. "They are ready to go as soon as you say so."

"Don't worry, I'll send them when the time comes." James maintains eye contact with Littlefoot, silently hinting to his pal that he had something bit in store. "Anyways, how has everything else been?"

"Turi is here." Littlefoot answers.

"Yeah, I can see him." He turns his attention on his late assassin's replacement. "I hope you're ready for the task I'm about to give you."

"Just say and I'll deliver." Turi replies.

"I like this man. Alright, I want you to head to Palermo and eliminate Dominic Ferrero for me. I'll give you the address and time once this meeting is over."

"Yes sir!"

"Alright, anyone else wishing to make a report… No? Okay. Dismissed."

Everyone got up and left the Capo Di Tutti Capi's office with the exception of Turi Andolini and Littlefoot, the former of which leaving right after being given a folded piece of paper by his new employer. As for Littlefoot, he was hanging around because his friend had something to discuss with him, something regarding Cera's secret adoptive daughter


	11. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Don't worry, Cera. We'll come up with something harder to survive in the future."

"Definitely."

"Better make it count this time or I'm taking over."

"Right."

Cera emerged from the secret meeting place located in the back of a café and casually walked out without making eye contact with anyone. She smiled when she saw Johan with his back propped against the driver-side door of the Maybach 57. The man opened the back door for her and kindly ushered her in before shutting the door. He then hopped into the driver's seat of the car and fired up the mighty V12 engine before driving off in the direction of Cera's safehouse.

"She's on the move."

Unbeknownst to either him or Cera however, someone had been watching both their movements from the apartment located on top of the café. Concealed by darkness, the unidentified individual lowered his binoculars and quickly began making his way out of the apartment, walking by the unconscious form of the tenant on his way to the door. At an intersection down the road, a pair of Brabus G63s casually turned onto the road the Maybach was on and casually slotted in right behind them.

Piloting the leading Brabus was an Indominus Rex by the name of Jason, better known by his alias "Callahan". With him in the massively powerful SUV were members of his elite mercenary team, all of them having been employed by Don Burnett to track Cera to her safehouse and launch an assault when the time comes. Behind the wheel of the Brabus tailing Jason was Dmitri Zaytsev, a former Spetznaz operative who served five years on the elite Special Forces unit before becoming a mercenary like Jason.

Being that this was Monaco and not some sort of rural town, the sight of two Brabuses didn't arouse too much suspicion from Cera and Johan. Heck, neither of the two even bothered to take a second look. They were more preoccupied with returning hope to reassess their options and rethink whether or not they should continue this war with Littlefoot and his powerful human friend.

"Honestly though, I think we should really just forget about it all and live a life of exile in South Cretaceous or something." Johan said. "This war… It really just isn't worth it."

"Oh? Why so?" Cera asks.

"Because all you're after is Littlefoot, not the most powerful criminal boss in all of Elysium."

"A friend of Littlefoot's is an enemy of mine… Unless of course they choose to side with me."

"Right…"

The sound of a distinctly British V12 engine distracted the two momentarily. Though neither were really car-enthusiasts, the roar of such a finely tuned machine simply drew all of their attention. Both of them turned to their right just in time to see a Skyfall Silver Aston Martin Vanquish cruise by. Its owner gunned the gas right after passing the Maybach and disappeared into the junction on the left. At around the same time, the two Brabuses which have been following the Maybach took a right and entered a private parking lot.

* * *

The sky had started to turn orange by the time Turi Andolini arrived at the location his boss gave him. Since he still had thirty-minutes to spare before the operation sprang, the former cop turned assassin decides to admire his ride and learn more about its quirks and features. Seeing that his old car was on the verge of going out, James had bought his new assassin a Ferrari F12 TDF. Why a Ferrari? Because he wanted Turi to be able to chase his targets if he had to.

Just the sound of the engine on idle was enough to give you an idea of just how much power this thing had under the hood.

"I should probably tackle the winding roads after this assignment." Turi mumbled to himself. "Pretty sure Don Burnett wouldn't mind."

 _PARLA PIU PIANO E NESSUNO…_

Turi whipped his smartphone out when he heard the ringtone and found to his surprise that Don Burnett was the one calling. He answers the call and listened intently as his boss described Dominic's Fiat 500. There has been a change of plans; there would be no ambush outside the apartment. Instead of waiting for his target to return home after a long day at work, Turi would head into town and ambush Dominic when he finished buying something for his wife.

The mighty V12 roar of the Ferrari put a smile on Turi as he began driving into Palermo from the outskirts. Through the tinted windows of his car, he could see pedestrians snapping pictures with their phones. He was driving a Ferrari after all. Turi continued to drive when he entered the city, following the on board GPS which was guiding him towards the Bel Air Mall, a recently opened high-end shopping mall in Palermo. Just like how James had described, the little Fiat 500 could be seen parked next to a Pizzeria.

Per instructions, the assassin parks his car directly behind the Fiat so he could ram the thing and disable the engine right after Dominic had jumped into his car. Even better, he could generate enough inertia by unleashing everything from the V12 that the Fiat would be crushed by the impact and Dominic turned into nothing more than a human pancake. Despite knowing his mission was relatively easy, Turi cringed whenever he thought about what he was going to do.

Only a moron would willingly crash his Ferrari into someone's car.

"To hell with that." He said to himself. "I'm the assassin. I'll do it my own way."

Moments after he said that, a familiar face emerged from the automatic doors of the mall entrance. Turi calmly emerged from his Ferrari and opened the trunk, acting as if he was unloading something. Instead of pulling a big luggage out however, the assassin whipped out a Tommy gun and readied the weapon by pulling the bolt back. He waited for Dominic to close in, waiting till he was close enough to touch his little Fiat before popping out with the menacing weapon.

 _BRATATATATATATATATAT_

A Shower of lead peppered the Fiat and shattered the windshield as Dominic dove behind its doors. All around the area, panicked pedestrians screamed in terror as they ran for their lives. Dominic put a few more bursts of submachine gun fire down range, emptying the entire magazine after that by raking the car from left to right. He then walks back to the trunk of his Ferrari and grabs his trusty Beretta AR90 which was fitted with a M203 grenade launcher.

"Say hello to my little friend!" Turi shouted.

 _BOOM_

Dominic ducked in the nick of time as a wall of buckshot pummeled his car. On the other side, Turi ejects the spent M576 buckshot round from the grenade launcher and closed the breach before unleashing a burst of automatic fire from the rifle. Unlike with the Tommy gun, he does not rake the car from left to right but goes for specific targets instead like the engine cover and doors. By the time the weapon ran dry, all was quiet on the western front.

No movement came from the other side of the Fiat and, with everyone having run off in panic, no pedestrians to give him confirmation either. Being the cautious man that he was, Turi rocks a fresh magazine into his gun and carefully moves over to the other side. He was not at all surprised when he saw the lifeless body of the man he was sent here to kill sprawled on the ground in a pool of his own blood.

Mission accomplished. High time to get the hell out.

* * *

An unmanned Predator drone circled the compound like a vulture awaiting its meal to die. Through the advanced infrared vision capabilities of the drone's 360-degree surveillance camera, the mercenary piloting the million dollar weapon could see the entire compound from high up. He could see where the main generator powering the lights were, where the main house was located, how many sentries were present, the best location to enter the compound, and so on.

He could also see a group of men a short walk away from the compound, the flashing infrared strobes identifying them as Jason and his fellow mercenaries. Decked out in tactical gear and carrying tricked-out Heckler & Koch 416 carbines, the mercenaries were all crouched down defensively as Jason looked for signs of enemy activity through the powerful lenses of his night-vision binoculars.

"I see a couple of guards by the gate." He radioed.

"Yeah, I see them too." The mercenary piloting the drone radioed back in response. "I see a fuck load of guys inside the compound too. Where the fuck does Cera get all that muscle?"

"Probably from Intratec. She does own the company after all."

"True."

"Just keep me posted alright?"

"Roger that."

"Any word from Dmitri's team?" Jason asked as he made eye-contact with the radioman of his team.

"They are in position and ready to strike the minute the attack is initiated."

"Alrighty then, I'd say we get right to it."

The word "Fallschrimjäger" came through the radio; the mission was now underway. From the relative safety of his residence, James Burnett was once again overseeing the operation through the screen of his computer, which was broadcasting the same camera feed the drone pilot was seeing. Almost immediately after hearing that the mission was a go, James grabbed the radio right next to him and specifically requested that the mercenaries stand their ground.

He wasn't about to send boots in without softening up the defensive force guarding the compound.

"Unleash both hellfire missiles." The Capo Di Tutti Capi said. "I want that compound obliterated."

"But there are civilians in the area, sir." The pilot reported. "Workers in the compound employed by Cera to keep the area clean."

"It's impossible to avoid collateral damage in war. Fire the missiles!"

"Yes sir."

With the touch of a button, the mercenary piloting the Predator drone unleashed his deadly payload. Both Hellfire missiles shrieked off their racks and made a beeline for their respective targets, the main house and armory, by following the path laid out by their laser guidance systems. At precisely 0200 hours, two simultaneous explosions rocked the relatively uninhabited mountainside, accompanied by a bright fireball which could be seen for miles.

Smoke filled the air moments later, impairing the view of the ground below. The mercenary piloting the drone flips his camera over to thermal and scans the compound once more. All he could see were bodies of fallen gunmen, wiped out the minute the two missiles struck. He could also see the fireworks show happening at the site of the now leveled armory as ammunition and explosives stored within began to cook off by the hundreds.

"Night night." The mercenary said before reaching for his radio. "Don Burnett, there is absolutely no movement inside the compound."

"Alright, send the men in to finish off whoever's still alive." He responded. "Ain't nobody gonna die a painful death, not on my watch."

Upon hearing the call for them to move into the compound and make a full sweep to ensure the job had been done properly, Jason and Dmitri led their respective teams of mercenaries into the compound, what was left of it. The sight of bodies greeted them almost immediately after they came through the gates, accompanied by the faint moans of dying men and women. It was like a warzone up here, yet this was not North Cretaceous during the war or Africa, where war still rages on against a rebellious group of mutated sentient lions.

The sight of carnage failed to overcome the mercenaries however, for they were all former servicemen who had all been in North Cretaceous during when President Beauregard unleashed the might of his military on King Lancelot. They killed anything which moved per James' orders, including non-combatants. The Capo Di Tutti Capi knew Cera probably said plenty of nice things about him when her workers asked and wasn't about to risk a second rebellion.

"We're coming up on the main house now." Jason radioed as he gestures towards what's left of the entrance. "Dmitri, you and your men move in through here. My guys and I will move round back to see if anyone's trying to sneak out."

"WILCO." He answered in a thick Russian accent

The mercenary teams split off and began their final push to eliminate whoever was still alive and either kill Cera or drag her lifeless corpse from the wreck of the building. Just like they had agreed upon earlier, Jason and his team move towards the back to cover the auxiliary entrance/emergency exit while Dmitri and his team made their way inside the remnants of the main house. At a glance, it seems as though the Hellfire Missiles have done what they were designed to do.

Everywhere they looked, the mercenaries either saw dead bodies or pieces of broken furniture mixed in amongst the wreckage. But then, they found something…

"I found something!" Fichtner shouted as he aimed at a wooden trapdoor located underneath pieces of wreckage. "Should I fire a few shots in before we burst in?"

"No, that would be a waste of bullets." Dmitri said. "Put the thing on full-auto and dump the mag."

"Roger that."

 _TICK_

 _RATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATAT…_

 _CLICK_

Fichtner banged a fresh magazine into his Heckler & Koch 416 carbine as he glared at the trapdoor which was now riddled with bullet holes. He then drew his pistol and cautiously approached the trapdoor, which he proceeded to open. What appears to be the entrance to an endless abyss greeted him the minute he peeked through, the tactical light mounted underneath his Sig Sauer MK25 pistol unable to overcome the darkness within.

Then something moved… And nearly scared Fichtner shitless

"Fuck!" He exclaimed as he fired three rounds at the silhouette.

Moments after the shots were fired, the silhouette came stumbling out of the darkness. She was a Triceratops… But she wasn't THE Triceratops. Rather, this was her adoptive daughter, whom she had adopted just a few days after her deadly love feud with Littlefoot began. Her head riddled with gunshot wounds, the young Triceratops collapses onto the ground even before she could put her foot on the first step of the short flight of stairs which led to the little bunker she had been hiding in.

"What was that about?" Jason's voice crackled through the radio.

"Oh nothing, we just had to deal with Cera's adoptive daughter." Dmitri answers. "What about you? Any sign of the Trike we were sent here to kill?"

"No, but I did find footprints leading to a huge ass tree in the forest… Which led to relatively fresh tire-tracks."

"How fresh?"

"Probably a couple of hours old."

"So she escaped?"

"Yeah."

"Okay… I guess we should inform Don Burnett then."

"Yeah, and I have a feeling he's gonna go after our asses."

"Most definitely."


	12. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Someone chase after that man!"

"There is no use, Tom! He's gone!"

"I can tell you Don Burnett is not going to be a happy man."

"Let's just… Not worry about that for now."

Everyone carried an anxious feeling as they entered the Capo Di Tutti Capi's residence in Sicily, everyone but Turi Andolini. Luca Clemenza was at the lead of the group of five while Dmitri brought up the rear, all of them dressed in their best. Out of all of them, only Turi was successful in eliminating an enemy of the Cosa Nostra and James wanted an explanation. You didn't even need to see Don Burnett to know that he was pissed. Anger was basically radiating off him!

All five were greeted with the infamous "stare of disappointment" usually associated with the late Charles Burnett upon entering, which none of them expected. Then again this was the first time James' subordinates have failed in their missions. James said nothing when he first saw his men and merely gestured for Turi to stand right next to him. He then hands the man a walnut box along with a small sticky note with the words "take this token of gratitude and bugger off so you won't have to hear my wrath".

Turi showed no expression nor made any gestures when he read the note and merely left the office in a brisk pace. He was seconds away from hearing James' first ever rant.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?" The Capo Di Tutti Capi yelled. "HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU, AS PROFESSIONALS, LET THOSE TWO SLIP OFF RIGHT UNDERNEATH YOUR NOSE?"

"They were smarter than we thought, Don Burnett." Jason said. "We never knew they anticipated what we were about to do."

"Never knew? Heh, very funny, Jason! Tell me then, how the fuck does one not see a BRIGHT WHITE ASTON MARTIN VANQUISH go by them. That and a pair of Brabus tuned G-Wagens?"

"It's the south of France, Don Burnett. Those things are common like-"

"Common? Are you out of your mind? This ain't Dubai we're talking about here! Monaco is only filled with exotics during race season." James then turns his attention to Luca and Tommy. "And you two. How could you guys fuck things up so bad here when you gave that old splinter organization a good dose of ass whopping?"

"I'm pretty sure Johnny isn't as smart as Cera either." Jason said, trying to put himself on James' good side.

"Shut up, you baldracca! I wasn't asking for your voice on the matter."

"Sorry, Don Burnett."

Neither Luca Clemenza nor Tommy Brasi could come up with an explanation for their failure. It WAS their own carelessness which led to Johnny's escape after all. They should've launched the good old two-pronged attack like they always did instead of going in guns blazing from one direction.

"Forget it." James said as his tone began to soften. "Just keep on your toes and be ready to move as soon as Johnny and Cera show up again, understood?"

"Yes, Don Burnett." The men said at the same time.

"Now get out of my face before I start shooting people.

* * *

 _THREE MONTHS LATER_

Lady Carolyne smiled when she heard the growl of the Jaguar's mighty V8. Sat in the driver's seat next to her was Armando Burnett, whom she was starting to fall madly in love with. That being said, she had yet to confess to him for fear of being rejected. He had been very kind to her and had demonstrated that he cared by protecting her even as bullets peppered his Lamborghini, which still sat in the local Lamborghini service center waiting to be repaired.

James, who had heard of the incident, realized that letting his son drive around in one of his many collectibles was not a terribly great idea and thus gave him direct access to the family vault so he could get his own ride. And having been influenced by Carolyne, he naturally bought a Jaguar F-Type R in metallic white. "It's good to be bad" he remembered her quoting the advertisement when she first suggested that he get a Jag over a Maserati GranTurismo.

As the teenagers came to a halt at a red-light, Lady Carolyne placed her left hand on Armando's right hand, which was rested on the arm-rest located in between the driver and passenger seat. Though Armando felt awkward, he chose to say nothing about it. Why? Because he too was secretly in love with Carolyne.

It was like a scene straight out of the movies; a guy and a girl both madly in love with each other yet unaware of each other's feelings for one another.

"Well this is awkward…" Armando finally spoke as the queue of romantic songs continued to play. "You do know I just played romantic songs because I felt like it, right?"

"Oh… Sorry." Lady Carolyne moved her hand away, the look of disappointment clearly seen on her face. "I didn't mean to offend you or anything. I just thought-"

"That I am in love with you?"

"Yeah…" She sighs. "Because… Y'know… I love you… A lot."

"And I thought I would be the one to make the first move."

Having learnt a few tricks from his friends and being the natural charmer that he was, Armando reached towards the glove-box without breaking a sweat and retrieves an exquisitely decorated walnut box from within before handing it over to the lovely lady sat on his right.

"A gift for you." He smiled. "My lady."

"Oh wow…" She rolled her eyes while trying to suppress her grin. "Another day, another gift from Don Burnett's son. I might just get spoilt."

"Sorry to burst your bubble but this gift was unplanned. I was thinking about giving it to you when we sat down."

"A surprise planned, no less."

"Yup."

"And it appears I've beat you to the trigger."

"Good thing it ain't another type of trigger."

The two teenagers shared a chuckle as they thought about what just happened, wondering if it was all real. Obviously it was! Why else would Carolyne still be sitting in the F-Type after very clearly showing her affection?

As the teenaged girl prepared to open her gift, she had no idea that her boyfriend was no longer enveloped in the romantic atmosphere. He had just spotted an old Shelby GT500, an "Eleanor Replica" no less. It bore a license code which gave away the fact that it was registered in Italy. But what caught Armando's attention was not either of those, but the fact that a familiar face was behind the wheel of the classic muscle car, a very familiar face.

And what do you know? That very familiar face just so happened to glance his way and the two made eye-contact. Moments later, the loud roar of the 428 Cobra Jet could be heard as none other than Johnny Pisciotta attempted to drive away from his old boss' son, who promptly stomps on the gas and gives chase. Lady Carolyne was caught off guard when she was suddenly shoved into her seat by the force generated by the car during its rather violent acceleration.

She didn't need an explanation though. All she had to do was to glance at her boyfriend and at the front windshield to figure out what was happening, both of which she did.

"Chasing a guy again?" She asks.

"More precisely THE guy!" He answers. "This "guy" is none other than Johnny Pisciotta, the bastard who masterminded the plan to ruin our drive in the Lamborghini."

"Well then, I'd say we pit this fucker!"

"Pit him? In the middle of Monte Carlo? Are you serious?"

"Better than letting him get away, right?"

"Damn! I'm glad I'm not on your bad side!"

Armando stomps on the gas of his Jaguar and unleashes the full might of the supercharged V8 engine. From the passenger seat, Carolyne watched as the speedometer went slowly climb from forty to fifty, then to sixty… seventy… eighty… ninety. She could see the automatic spoiler in the back deploying as the car slowly closed in on the ass of the Shelby. Next thing she knew, her boyfriend maneuvered his car into position on the left-rear of Johnny's car as if it was another day at the office and smashed into him with as much force as he could.

Just like in countless police videos, the Shelby reacted like the target cars in each video and spun out violently. Johnny attempted to regain traction by turning his front-wheels in the opposite direction but his efforts were in vain. Travelling at high-speed on a street lined with cars, he didn't even have the space to attempt the recovery maneuver. Instead of making a speedy getaway like he had planned, the former second in command of the Cosa Nostra smashes his car into a road divider and goes onto a ramp.

Like Dominic Toretto at the end of the first Fast & Furious movie, Johnny goes sailing through the sky and lands at a weird angle, causing his car to tumble several times before coming to a halt back on its wheels. Armando executes a handbrake turn when he saw the wreck of the car and skids onto the patch of grass where the wrecked Shelby was. He asks his girlfriend to remain in the car and disembarked with with a Lupara in hand.

"Come out you fuck!" He shouted.

 _BANG_

 _BOOM_

 _BOOM_


End file.
